Paper Kites
by AStudyInGrace
Summary: There's something about Manhattan, Kansas that draws Castiel in. Maybe it's the small, quiet college town that surrounds Kansas State University. Maybe it's the book stores and the crafts shops - or the people, who are kindhearted and warm, quietly keeping to themselves but quick to outreach if help is ever needed. Maybe it's Dean Winchester.


There's something about Manhattan, Kansas that draws Castiel in. Maybe it's the small, quiet college town that surrounds Kansas State University. Maybe it's the book stores and the crafts shops - or the people, who are kindhearted and warm, quietly keeping to themselves but quick to outreach if help is ever needed.

It could even be the way fall is slowly setting in; slow as green leaves turn to orange and red. Or it could be the way the brisk air makes the morning feel crisp and fresh, or the sudden urge for coffee and spiced goods.

Castiel jumps when his phone buzzes in his pocket.

Maybe it's Dean Winchester.

Castiel checks the time on his phone – its 2:45 – before checking his text messages.

 _ **Dean Winchester:** Where are you?_

He glances up from the book he's been reading, _A History in Western Philosophy_ , and looks around the small book shop he's been sitting in since his classes let out. It's quite large - two stories tall and a little bigger than a house, but the bookshelves and the couches take up space and make the area feel warm and welcoming.

It smells like old books and aging paper, along with the smell of cinnamon and vanilla and various other spices since it's conjoined with a small café.

He texts Dean back:

 _I'm at Carver's._

 _ **Dean Winchester:** Again? I swear, you're there every day. What're you reading this time, a sappy romance novel?_

Castiel frowns at the Dean's message and closes his book, setting it down on the table beside the small couch he's curled up on.

 _No, I'm reading a book on Philosophy. What are you up to?_

He turns his head to look outside, watching as people make their way down the street to their daily activities and events. It's still a little bright outside, since it's just past mid-day, so he's glad to know he hasn't spent the entire afternoon in here. (Though he wouldn't mind).

When his phone buzzes once more in his hands, he glances down at the new message from Dean.

 _ **Dean Winchester:** Just got out of classes and walking Charlie to her dorm. Apparently she has a date with Gilda, though, so in a few minute's I'll be all alone._

 _ **Dean Winchester:** Charlie says hi, by the way. And that she's having a Harry Potter Marathon (ew) on Friday if you wanna show._

He tells Dean to tell Charlie he said hello and that perhaps he'll show up on Friday. He's heard a few things about Harry Potter and he remembers thinking he'd never read the books when he was younger because they were too long.

He also tells Dean that he should meet him at Carver's.

With confirmation that Dean will be there in a few minutes, Castiel puts his phone back into his pocket and curls back up on the couch, re-opening his book and starting where he left off.

xx

He spends so long reading, and so long spent in his little world, that he startles when someone plops down on the couch beside him and plucks his book from his fingers.

" _'It is here that Spinoza is in the right—a life dominated by a single passion is a narrow life, incompatible with every kind of wisdom.'_ "

"The author is relating it to Macduff's rage and vengeance when he learns that his wife and child were murdered by Macbeth. To lead a life full of rage is unhealthy," Castiel explains as he slips his book from Dean's hands, closing it and packing it away in his messenger bag. "To lead a life full of happiness and pleasures, though.. I believe that to be something different."

"Don't look so excited to see me, Cas." Dean huffs, leaning back against the couch and crossing his legs Indian style.

"You know I'm always happy to see you, Dean." Castiel smiles softly. He wraps his scarf around his neck securely and pulls his cardigan back on, then nudges Dean with his foot.

"I can't tell if you're being serious."

"I'll let you ponder on that."

Dean whacks him in the face with the tail end of his own scarf. "Well, let's go ponder about that thought over some coffee. C'mon. I'm a dead man walking, I swear."

xx

They end up walking the short distance to _Holy Grounds_ , _aka_ Gabriel's coffee place, _aka_ the place Gabriel loves to torment and smother Castiel with brotherly love.

He knows that as soon as he walks in there, Gabriel is going to accuse him of being a _'basic white girl'_ for getting some sort of spiced latte.

When they do walk inside, Castiel immediately pulls his scarf off because the blast of warm air is nearly overwhelming in contrast to the brisk air outside. The store is somewhat small, scattered with small tables and booths that are occupied by a few college students, and when he turns to look at the menu to debate on what he wants, Gabriel is grinning childishly at him.

"Awh, look who came to pay me a special visit! I knew you loved me more than you put on," Gabriel is practically sprawled across the front counter, and Castiel is glad that there aren't any other customers waiting besides him and Dean because this is downright _embarrassing_.

"Gabriel, you're my brother. I think I'm going to be stuck with you for the rest of my life." Castiel shakes his head, and the hurt façade Gabriel puts on would be tear-jerking, if it weren't so staged and comical.

"Nice to see you too, _Cassie_. You hurt my feelings a little more each time I see you. I sure hope you don't treat Dean that way." Gabriel pulls back and frowns, fiddling with the computer in front of him so he can take Castiel's order. Castiel doesn't get the chance to answer before Gabriel cuts him off. "You want your regular 'basic-white-girl' order, or are you looking for a switch up?"

He wasn't joking about being called _'basic'_.

"I don't understand how ordering an ordinary latte makes me a _'white girl'_ ," Castiel turns to glare at Dean when he starts laughing at him, "but yes, I'll take the usual. Are the coffee cake muffins good?" he steps over to eye the pastries and the sweets, his stomach rumbling quietly. It's his own fault for skipping part of his lunch to finish an assignment.

"Of course they're good. I make them myself, you know what." Gabriel winks at him, and even though Castiel knows Gabriel is messing with him, he's not sure he wants the muffin anymore.

"If I die of food poisoning, I'll make sure no one finds your body." Castiel squints, before pulling out his wallet.

"I would _never_ ," Gabriel gasps and steps back in mock offense, then shakes his head and takes down the rest of Cas' order.

"Alright, so I have you down for a large Chai latte, and a coffee cake muffin. What about you, Dean-o? What're you in the mood for today?" He waggles his eyebrows at both Dean and Castiel, and Castiel makes a mental note to hit him upside the head when he gets a chance.

"Hit me up with an Americano." Dean shrugs. "Probably gonna be up all night studying, anyway."

Gabriel nods in sympathy and repeats their order back to them. "And with my special discount, your total is – oh, would you look at that, it's on me." His brother chides, grabbing Castiel's muffin and placing it in a bag, then setting it on the counter before stepping back to make his latte and Dean's espresso.

"Thank you, Gabriel." Castiel smiles and takes the bag containing his muffin, placing a five dollar bill in the tip jar just because. He knows Gabriel will probably yell at him for it later, but he feels bad that Gabe pays for his coffee all the time.

His coffee is warm in his hands when Gabriel hands it to him a minute later, and he thanks his brother one more time before scouting for a good seat.

He and Dean choose a window seat - a small round table with two chairs facing opposite each other – and they sit down, taking the lids off of their coffees and letting them cool.

They talk small talk, things like, ' _So, how're your classes going?_ ' and, ' _Charlie pulled the most embarrassing prank the other night_ ' and really, they're just catching up on the time they've missed with each other.

Outside of classes and work, Dean and Castiel are kind of inseparable. They've been friends since the beginning of high school and since then, they've kind of stuck to each other.

It's kind of funny how it all started. Dean ended up walking in on him alone with a blank canvas and charcoal in a classroom, scaring the ever-living daylights out of him because he was so focused.

Castiel remembers Dean asking him what the hell he was doing, during _lunch_ , alone and working on a project.

He remembers telling Dean that he was supposed to be working on a portrait for art but not having anyone to do a portrait of.

His favourite part about this entire memory is that he remembers sketching Dean and drawing huge wings spanning from the other boy, a square nimbus glowing bright in it's place behind his head.

He recalls the instant feeling of butterflies because of how beautiful Dean was, thinking that he had the brightest soul, the brightest smile, and the brightest personality that he'd ever seen.

"Dude, Cas."

Castiel snaps his attention up from his latte and look at Dean.

"What?"

Dean shakes his head, a small smile forming on his lips. "You didn't hear a word I just said, did you?"

Castiel flushes with embarrassment and clears his throat. "Sorry, I.. I zoned out, I suppose."

"I just asked if you were okay, that's all." Dean raises his eyebrows curiously, concern washing over his face.

Castiel looks over at the front counter and sees Gabriel basically stalking both him and Dean with so much interest, he surprised his brother hasn't pulled out a pair of binoculars.

"Would you like to go somewhere? Perhaps someplace where my brother isn't breathing down my throat?" Castiel asks quietly, careful to make sure that Gabriel can't hear him.

"Lead the way, Cas," Dean stands and holds his arm out, as if to say, 'after you'.

They leave the café, and Castiel makes sure he doesn't forget his muffin, (which he hasn't even touched, yet) before they set on their journey to God knows where. He pretends he doesn't hear his brother shout out to him after they leave, telling him to 'enjoy his date'.

xx

They end up walking through park.

It's quiet, besides the low hum of 4 o'clock traffic in the background and the distant conversations of other students going on about their classes. Maybe this is another thing that draws Castiel into this small town; the small buzz of life that isn't overwhelming here unlike loud cities filled with overly loud people.

The sky is turning mixed colours of orange and pink and the air is getting a tad bit colder, so Castiel re-wraps his scarf around his neck and pulls his cardigan closer around himself. There's a comfortable silence between he and Dean as they walk, leaves crunching softly under their feet.

He glances toward Dean a few times and it looks like there's a question he wants to ask but he isn't sure on how to phrase it. Castiel is about to ask what it is, but Dean beats him to it.

"You know how you mentioned that a life full of rage is unhealthy, but you think differently about a life full of happiness and pleasure and stuff like that?"

Oh.

Castiel turns to look at him with curiosity. That was only something that he was clarifying about the book, so what could this possibly be about?

"I do. Why? What's on your mind?"

Dean shrugs, a small smile tugging at his lips, and Castiel follows his gaze over to two students sitting on a park bench. When he tilts his head up to look into the sky, he notices they're flying two kites, which seem to be frantically dancing around each other. He watches for a while as they skirt around each other, coming close, but never touching.

"What if being so consumed in happiness and pleasure isn't healthy either? What if that turns you oblivious to the world around you, just like rage does?" Dean turns and looks at Castiel, and there's something in his eyes that Castiel can't place. It's a mix between interest and confusion, something that lights Dean's face up with a small dose of curiosity.

Castiel turns his attention back to the two students who are flying their kites, and he ponders on Dean's question for a while.

"I think that.. since rage and vengeance are meant to harm people, and happiness is, in itself, made for pleasure and made for making people happy, that's what makes them so different from each other." He starts off slowly, his gaze still focused on the kites flying overhead. "Either way, indulging yourself in other people and pleasures like relationships and such, you're bound to tune out the world around you at some point, but for a better reason, unlike hate and rage.

"Put it like this: Being in love and being happy - are you hurting anyone? Are you doing bad things and are people going to be mad at you for doing so? Of course not, because in some point in life it's going to happen to them. They understand wanting to feel good. Do you see why focusing on rage and hate, and happiness and pleasure are so different from one another?" Castiel shifts his gaze away from the kites, and he hadn't realized Dean had been staring at him the entire time.

"Yeah.." Dean answers softly, and Castiel watches as he turns to look back at the kites. "I got ya, Cas."

They continue walking, watching those two kites zipping through the air swiftly, until one of them whips sideways and knocks into the other, bringing them both crashing to the ground. The two students flying them shove and push at each other playfully, grinning and teasing about who messed up and how one of them _obviously_ sucks at flying kites.

"Do you remember how we first met?" Castiel turns and asks Dean, and Dean smiles around his cup of coffee.

"Yeah. I never understood how you could skip an entire lunch period just to work on artwork. It kind of intrigued me, actually."

Castiel smiles and looks down at his feet, kicking at the leaves and the dirt piled beneath his swing.

"Did I ever tell you my first impression of you?"

Dean shakes his head and laughs, looking at Castiel with a hint of surprise.

"Cas, you never even showed me the drawing that you did. You told me that you wanted to wait until the ' _right time'_ , whatever that means."

Castiel raises his eyebrows in surprise, halting in mid-swing to turn and face Dean. "Really? I still have it, you know. The drawing, I mean."

xx

This is how they end up in back Castiel's dorm room. He apologizes for the small mess of books on his floor and the small clutter of charcoal and canvases on his desk, before kneeling down to reach under his bed, grasping around until his hand hits something familiar.

He pulls out a medium sized canvas, handling it with such care as if it's about to break, and when he turns to show Dean, he watches the awe spread across his best friend's face.

"Cas.."

"I thought you were the most beautiful and brightest sight I've ever laid eyes on," Castiel whispers softly, setting the canvas down on the easel that's standing in the corner of his room. "I still think you are."

He's not expecting Dean to kiss him then, and definitely not expecting the shock of it to make him drop his coffee. It falls to his feet with a dull thud, the lid popping off and the coffee spilling all around his feet, but he's too focused on Dean to care.

He relaxes, places his hand gently behind Dean's neck to pull him in closer, and immediately melts into the kiss. It's sweet, it's slow and passionate, and it's all he ever wanted.

The taste of Dean is much sweeter than the Chai latte he was drinking, and Castiel thinks he's found his new favourite.


End file.
